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well, me an’ my lady had our first big fight, so i drove around ’til i saw the neon light. a corner bar, an it just seemed right. so i pulled up.

not a soul around but the old bar keep, down at the end an’ looking half asleep. an he walked up, an’ said : “what’ll it be?” i said: “the good stuff.”

he didn’t reach around for the whiskey; he didn’t pour me a beer. his blue eyes kinda went misty, he said: “you can’t find that here.

’cause it’s the first long kiss on a second date. momma’s all worried when you get home late. and droppin’ the ring in the spaghetti plate, ’cause your hands are shakin’ so much. an’ it’s the way that she looks with the rice in her hair. eatin’ burnt suppers the whole first year an’ askin’ for seconds to keep her from tearin’ up. yeah, man, that’s the good stuff.”

he grabbed a carton of milk an’ he poured a gl*ss. an’ i smiled an’ said: “i’ll have some of that.” we sat there an’ talked as an hour p*ssed, like old friends.

i saw a black an’ white picture an’ it caught my stare, it was a pretty girl with bouffant hair. he said: “that’s my bonnie, taken ’bout a year after we were wed.”

he said “spent five years in the bar, when the cancer took her from me. but i’ve been sober three years now, ’cause the one thing stronger than the whiskey

was the sight of her holdin’ my baby girl. the way she adored that string of pearls, i gave her the day that our youngest boy, earl, married his high school love.” “an’ it’s a new tee-shirt saying: ‘i’m a grandpa’. bein’ right there as our time got small, an’ holdin’ her hand, when the good lord called her up, yeah, man, that’s the good stuff.”

he said: “when you get home, she’ll start to cry. when she says: ‘i’m sorry,’ say: ‘so am i.’ an’ look into those eyes, so deep in love, an’ drink it up. ’cause that’s the good stuff. that’s the good stuff.”